


Can you count it out for me?

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Twenty One Pilots, joshler - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blue Haired Josh Dun, Coming In Pants, Enemies to Lovers, Grinding, Hickeys, Lust, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rutting, band room sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 07:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14744882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Josh is growing very impatient trying to help Tyler with his song. It doesn't help that they hate each other.





	Can you count it out for me?

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt I found.

“It’s just simple stomps and claps.”  
“I’m a SINGER. If I could stomp and clap don’t you think I’d be SOMETHING ELSE?!”  
“It’s a simple repetition. Jesus, you play bass!” Josh is beside himself. What is wrong with this guy?!  
  
Tyler sticks his tongue out. “You’re a simple repetition.” He is fuming as he taps his foot on the floor. “This blue-haired idiot and his stupid clap routine, come on!” the singer screams in his mind.  

Okay, now Ty’s done it. Three horizontal lines have appeared across the drummer’s forehead.  
“Shut the fuck up, Joseph. I’m this close to being done with you.” He makes a very tiny space appear between his calloused fingers. “And I can see you tap your foot just fine.”

Tyler stands with his arms crossed, defiant. He stops tapping. “Fine, go. I don’t need you, anyway.”

Josh is furious with this stupid, skinny singer. Why is his teacher making him accompany this arrogant dick?!  
“Listen, I’m trying to fucking help you, asshole. The Senior Talent Show is a week away. Your song needs drums and you need to learn this.”

Josh raises an eyebrow. Tyler rolls his chestnut eyes in response.  
Okay, he’s had enough. He throws the drumsticks to the ground and hustles over to the singer. Tyler’s pouty mouth drops open as Josh grabs his small wrists.  
“If you are going to act like a baby, I’m going to treat you like a baby. Relax your hands and I will clap for you. Try to follow along in your mind, for the love of all that is holy.”  
  
Tyler bites into his dark cherry lip, swallowing down an expletive. Josh’s gaze falls to his shiny mouth. He feels a blush rise in his cheeks.  
The drummer’s actually never touched nor stood this close to Tyler. Despite rehearsing for the past 10 days, they’ve always kept a “healthy” distance, (also because most of the time they are at each other’s throats).  
The taller boy is lithe, with a golden complexion. Jesus, he’s godlike. There’s something almost…Egyptian in his persona.  
Josh studies the wrists he is holding. Tyler’s skin is smooth, silky. “Stop thinking about how nice his skin feels,” his brain yells.

Yes. Back to work.

“Okay, it’s like this: _stomp  stomp x  stomp stomp x  stomp x  stomp stomp x”_  He goes through the motion with Tyler’s hands, but utilizing his own feet.  
“One more time, then you try.” Josh doesn’t mind guiding his arms at all.

Tyler isn’t paying attention. His mouth is slack, eyes focused on the biceps straining within the tight Blink-182 tee the drummer threw on this morning. It happens to match his hair perfectly.

“Tyler!” Josh shouts.

“Wha-what?!”  
“Tyler, repeat what I just did.” Josh lets go, waiting.

Tyler claps, then stomps, then stops.  Josh blows out air in a huff.  
“Unbelievable. Are you trying to be dumb?! WE JUST DID IT!”

The singer’s eyes moisten over. He feels stupid now. Josh Dun’s perfect mouth is frowning, disappointed in him.  
“Stop yelling at me!” Tyler cries, tears welling.

“Fuck my life.” The drummer rakes his fingers through his curls.  
“I’m only yelling because you are driving me insane, Tyler!” Josh throws his arms up in defeat.  
“It’s not quantum mechanics. It’s A A B A. Does that make more sense to you?! JESUS!”  
  
Josh looks so sexy when he’s angry. His freckled face flush with emotion as his lower lip quivers.  
Before Tyler knows what he’s doing, he lunges. His large, yet delicate hands envelope the drummer’s face.  
  
“Mmm,” the younger moans. Their slick mouths clash, fueled by lustful rage. It takes a second for Josh to realize that Tyler is begging to be allowed in, his tongue marking lines along Josh’s closed lips. He is pushing, all heat and wetness.

Josh’s hands grab into Tyler’s back, one between his shoulder blades and the other on his firm ass, one finger looping into his belt as he pulls him flat against his chest.  
“I fucking hate you, Joseph,” he breaks. “You’re an arrogant prick.”  
Tyler’s tangled into his nape, powder blue curls sprouting from between his knuckles.  
“Fuck you, Josh.” He bites down and tugs on the drummer’s lower lip.  
“Ugh…don’t you ever…” **suck** “mmmyell at me again.”  
  
Josh groans, deep as it reverberates in his chest. Their tongues fight for dominance, cheeks of one hollowing, then the other’s, as they indulge in each other’s taste.

“Beautiful, Tyler. Fuck.” Josh is breathless, so hungry for Tyler’s touch. “I need…”  
Softer, then harder, until gentle sweeps of their tongues twist and turn, dizzying the musicians.

Their erections rub together. Josh bucks into him, two handfuls of denim suggesting that Tyler grind into his waiting crotch.  
“Ty…shit….so hot…”  
The singer has worked his hands under Josh’s shirt and is kneading, scratching, tugging. His hands trail up his chest, taking the shirt with them. “Take it off, Josh.”  
  
“What if someone comes in?” Josh says as he pulls it over his head, one hand tugging on the collar from the back. It’s discarded onto the bass drum a moment later, along with his concern.  
Tyler’s arms are up, Josh’s eyes caught on his chest tattoos. “Rip it off me.”  
  
The drummer yanks the polo off Tyler, maneuvering him to lay down on the floor. Tyler kicks aside a chair to make room.  
  
The singer laces his fingers with Josh’s, pushing his thigh between the drummer’s muscular legs. Bare breasts struggling for breath, Tyler latches onto the elder’s clavicle and twirls his tongue there as he adds suction.  
Josh whimpers, “Oh Ty, Ty” his fingers traveling to beneath the singer’s tight ass. He gyrates his pelvis and their leaking cocks grate.  
Tyler mews.

The singer looks like a vampire, his chocolate head bobbing on Josh’s carotid. A purple mark expands under his mouth. Josh is writhing beneath him, eyes closed and teeth hanging over his lower lip.    
Their movements are perfectly coordinated to maximize the friction between their skinny jeans.

The rutting is dirty, their laments soft enough for only them to hear.  
“Faster, Tyler…please, harder…” begs a scalding whisper against Tyler's skin.   
Josh is close, his dick so ready to explode he can almost taste his own cum in his mouth.  
Tyler is not far behind. He hisses, one hand grazing Josh’s cheek and the other splayed for support on the floor beside him. He can almost count it down. 3, 2, 1… (sure, now he can count, he thinks).

“Tyler, I’m….cumming…” Josh disintegrates below him with a swift, upward thrust. His hands tear into Tyler’s sides and he’s nearly weeping from the hot release. “Oh god oh god oh god.”  
Josh’s underpants stick to his pubes, a sullied mess in his cotton boxers.    
  
The singer arches back, putting all his weight in his hips as he drives his cock into Josh’s. The hardness from the zipper accentuates his orgasm as it tugs against his length.  
“Josh, god, Josh…so good…”  
His head hangs past Josh’s shoulder once he's spent, the singer panting heavily. He came so much it’s actually seeped into the front of his jeans.

“Shit that was intense,” Ty mutters.  
Josh fingers his backbone shyly, short strokes. Tyler angles in for a kiss, skin glowing from pleasure. He pecks Josh over his smiling lips.  
“Well, that was unexpected,” Josh chuckles.  
Tyler nods, his lashes fluttering under his lust-blown gaze. “I still hate you, Dun.”  
The drummer giggles. “Good. I hate you, too. That should make next time even more interesting.”  
  
Tyler’s manicured eyebrows arch. “So there’s going to be a next time?”  
Josh touches his tiny noise lightly with a fingertip. “Oh yeah. And if you get this stomp and clap routine right I’ll even let you take off my pants.”

“Uh-huh,” Tyler agrees. “If I remember correctly it was _stomp  stomp x  stomp stomp x  stomp x  stomp stomp x?”  
_ Josh gasps. “You little shit. You knew it all along!”

Tyler smirks. “Mm-hh. It’s not THAT hard, Dun, Jesus. I just had to figure out a way to have angry sex with you in the band room. Your buttons are so easy to push.”  
He jerks slightly into Josh's dick with his own.   
“And to think, you fake cried. Oscar-worthy. Next time, Joseph, just fucking ask.”  
"And what would be the fun in that?"   
  
The musicians lie there sharing laughs a while longer, sweaty bodies pressed against each other under the low sizzle of neon lights. 


End file.
